False Witness
by FallenShateiel
Summary: It's a Percy story. I wanted one to explain the personality bits of him.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Farmer Francis Will Have **

**Her Revenge on Seattle.**

_It's so relieving,_

_to know that you're leaving_

_as soon as you get paid._

_It's so relaxing _

_to hear that you're asking _

_whenever you get your way._

_It's so soothing _

_to know that you'll sue me_

_this is starting to sound the same._

_I miss the comfort of being sad._

_In her false witness_

_we hope you're still with us_

_to see if they float or drown_

_Our favourite patient, a display of patience_

_A disease- covered Puget Sound._

_She'll some back as fire, to burn all the liars,_

_and leave a blanket of ash on the ground._

_I miss the comfort of being sad._

_- NIrvana_

I have alot of problems.

Ask anyone they'd say my biggest problem is that I'm an arse whose goal in life is to become the Minister for fuckin' Magic. Of course these are the persons that once called me, brother or son. Never _friend._

Sometimes I feel as if I'm bi-polar, my mind is that fucked up. I'm the opposite of the image everyone have preceived.

My smile... I've never _actually _been happy.

My entire life is debauched on the fact that I'm miserable. That I love being sad and remorseful.

No one really knows me. I like that, because it means I can disappear into thin air...

Staring at the wedding invitation makes me hate them all the more. I don't want a family who will help me, love me be there for me when I am down. I don't want to any of that...

There's the letter as the counter I throw away in disgust. My small unused kitchen. My brother who knows nothing about me.

_Hey Perce,_

_I'm coming to stay with you for awhile. Bill's marriage means Mum and Dad's place'll be overcrowded. And The Twins are too loud. So why not crash with you? I can take the sofa, it's no problem._

_Your brother,_

_Charlie._

God. As if I don't have enough to think about. My job is in jeopardy. My hatred for everything has risen. Yet my mother sends my older brother to make sure I go to Bill's wedding.

Why can't they just leave me or give me the pain I so deserve...

"Hey Perce?" I turn my head slightly. I didn't hear the door.

"Yes?" I know I'm making an already awkward moment more so.

"Mind showing me where I can set up camp?" His voice is raspy, most likely from the gastrous posions in dragon's breath.

I turn around to face him fully. He's standing uncomfortably with a hand bag. His overly freckled face looking tanned. His friendly face plastered with a false giddiness to see me. Stockier than most men. Very nomadic looking...

But his hair... I hate his hair.

The annoying red glint of it. Blond and red. No dark colours that I enjoy. No darkness I feel is reflected in the strands. The only chaotic feeling in my same coloured hair is my curls. Whom I slaughter as often as I can.

He's unnerved with my staring, looking around the flat. I know what he must see.

_Not Percy._

The place is cold and only one chair remains in the middle. One light that is dim, making the white walls look grey. The dirty bowl and coffee cup still on the rickety table with one broken stool.

The chips and cracks, unhealthy feel of a place I do not even know the word to describe. The bathroom is murky coloured. My shampoo and razor the only things in sight. Everything else is hidden.

There are other rooms. My own which holds a mattress with a lumpy pillow and a black comforter. I have only music in the Muggle form. There lies the electric guitar I purchased out of pure stupidity.

My paper's that litter the floor, along with the many music disks. The other rooms are just as desolate. One bed for a guest with a nightstand and dresser. The other room is closed. Even I do not like to go in there.

"In there." I gesture wearily to the middle room.

It's strange that I could be so cold to this man whose smile lights up a room. Turning around I move towards the coffee pot to make a new brew.

The smell is burnt and overwhelming.

How I love it.

A/N: I just started this. I have a good idea for this story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It's strange having someone in my personal life. With my 2 year estrangement against my family and _very _short term love affairs... coming home to another human being drives me quietly mad.

Even when I lived at home it was hard not to grow irritated at my mother.

I'm a cold facade of a human being. I know this; Charlie will come to know this as well. Penelope did. Which would probably answer the question why I found her and Oliver snogging each other the very last day of Hogwarts.

Did I feel betrayed by a girl whom I was slowly resenting being with the roommate I barely even knew?

Not really.

Sometimes I do think I'm made of stone.

"Hiya Percy." I can't help but notice the two syllable conversion.

I nod. Go to my room. The tiny click audible is throughout the galaxies.

zxzzxzxzxzzxzzxz

One would never assume that Head Boy Perfect Poof would be a lover of art. Music, literature, paintings made from the human subconscious.

How could I resist?

My own depraved soul crying to allow all else to see my naivety with an animosity not even the Dark Lord could achieve.

Yes. I do think that those whom we label as _evil_ are artisans of the fabric that is Life.

While at the same time I begin to deny the fact that it exists. What is evil? Is there an answer that _everyone _can believe?

Is not all evil good? And Vice versa?

Am I not a git, yet a respectable young man?

Was I not perfect in everyway that my brothers became infatuated with each one of my downfalls?

Am I not the boy smoking a cigarette, waiting for the sky to fall?

I love the way the smoke swirls around in the air with such deadly chemicals. The way it dyes my teeth and fingers a truly disgusting mustard colour. The added effect on the aftertaste that resides in the mouth with gross precision.

I suppose I am self defeated. Self mutilated, self pitied... and all the rest.

Suppose I like it?

Am I evil, because I'm not as happy as that big muscular man waiting in the living room for me to come out.

He'll leave soon to go and have supper at the Burrow. Even with just a fortnight behind us, he knows I will not be bothered to come with him.

I pick up that funny Muggle instrument. My hands trembling slightly after all the cigarettes. Tearing apart my soul, I allow myself to fly away for a little while.

8989898

At night it's the worst. The insomnia that hasn't gone away despite my body's exhausted state.

Sometimes I go into that room that room to calm down. My body consumed by the energy. My curl's wailing as my voice falters.

I don't think it's too bad all this. The back of the paintings leaning against the wall. The painted black windows, white walls that are all sorts of colours in the lamp light. The dolls made of clay... disturbing the insect feel of them. Monstrous in the humanity they've mutated. Black, with blue eyes or no eyes at all. None of them have fair hair. Three of them have blue eyes. Four with brown. One doll is holding a pair of green ones. While another is frozen in time with a black onyx one in their mouths.

They are genderless as angels and demons or sexless.

Why do they exist?

So that they may be destroyed.

After all isn't that what life's about?

8989898

A/N: short I know. But I'm working on it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_A/N: Ok i wrote abit of this story before anyone reviewed it. So i am going to take the suggestion that i use other character's pov after i writethis abnormally long chapter down. also i might have a lot of spelling mistakes._

I have a problem. 

Charlie's beginning to take charge of my flat. Not that I care. I only occupy two roomsand am rarelyaround anyways. But to step out of the fireplace and to be face to face with not only one but three redheads? 

Not that the thought of him entertaining in the flat is odd. But I don't want to be faced with my younger twin brothers. Who've always not so discreetly despise me. 

"Hello Percy." This is the end of his greeting as he goes back to discussing whatever it was with Fred and George. 

I leave them to it and go to my room. The burning eyes gone away as I close the door. I wonder why Charlie's brought them here. Why they agreed. 

Then I remember. 

They worked for Dumbledore and will continue to do so. 

I have a headache. My job as the Minister's delegate is compiled of doing nothing but listen to the complaints of others on how bad of a job we're doing. 

I take out a Sleeping Potion I nicked from work today. 

A knock on the door stops me as I tilt the vial to my lips. 

"Yes?" My voice is quick and brisk with irritation. 

Charlie opens the door slowly. 

"I'm going out to Fred and George's for awhile. Do you need anything?" 

"No, thank you." Practiced politeness. 

"What are you doing?" He's looking at the vial. 

"Headache." He's not an idiot. 

Yet he nods. " I'll pick up some supper when I come back." 

I'm about to say 'don't bother' when he turns and leaves. 

My own coldness is different from his. 

89898989898 

I can be sensible when it comes to putting toxins in my body. Usually it's cigarettes and coffee that I take more than liberal amounts of. Alcohol or else wise I take very seldom and with extreme caution. 

I took enough Sleeping Potion to be able to sleep from 4:00 to 8:30. When I awokethe summer sun was still out. 

Iwrote something I don'tquite understand, but don't care anyways. 

_Honesty_

_If I were truly honest to myself,_

_I would admitI have a problem_

_Instead of saying it, _

_Makethe world my home,_

_instead of avoiding reality_

_stop clowning around and laughing_

_forgetting to do important things_

_stop buying books to write in_

_before stopping half-way through_

_Because I am split between my own dream world_

_And the reality I'm shut in_

_But then, if I were honest with myself _

_I wouldn't be here_

_I'd have run away_

_gotten lost_

_and stayed that way._

_-- FallenShateiel (A/N: yes my bad poem)_

I don't understand. But these days I think knowledge is overrated. 

A knock on the door. 

"Percy, are you awake?" I'm tempted to scream 'No!'. 

Instead, I sigh and go to open the door. 

What's presented to me is alot of greasy food. Charlie even eyes it as though preparing for it to jump. 

"I thought of experimenting with something different." 

I poke it with my fork. Take some ofthe greenmushstuff. Sniff it then put it in my mouth. 

Like a child, I thought _gross_. Then I thought more clearly and it tasted like overcooked asparagus and brocolli. 

Not very appetizing, but I'll eat it. 

98989898989898 

I have a routine in the morning. Where I smoke a pack of cigarettes, take a shower, brush the hell out of my teeth, then go drink enough coffee to make me sick. Then I leave for work the Muggle way. 

After the incident at the Ministry security has made it so that we have to use either Portkey or Muggle transit to get to work. Being a delegate I'm allowed to use Floo Powder on the way home. 

I still like to Apparate. Which I do every morning in the hallway and before Charlie showed up, after work. Despite what common beliefpeople share there is no charm against Apparation. 

I know this because I tried it at Hogwarts. During the Triwizard Tournament. After the Yule Ball and the encouter I had with Malfoy. I wasn't thinking clearly and I apparated home. It all has to do with the mind and its convictions. I was so messed up that I hadn't even thought subconsciously about the precautions around the school. 

I'm sure other people know this. In different ways. That with magic something can _be _or_ cannot _be. Without also realizing that something cannot not exist but what has never been. Put a thought in existence it can be _real._

Something like that. I haven't really felt obliged to think much about that subject. 

Arriving at work, I become Percy Weasley. 

8998989898 

Some would say that I'm an arse for the way I can ignore my father. He's become Head of his own department. Openly friendly with all the well respected aurors. Highing respected for being in Dumbledore's inner circle. 

But I cannot let up on this deep resentment towards him. It's because of him that I've become this way. My mother's fault as well. Their subtle praising on how smart I was, dignified, responsible, _better _I was than all the rest. How _easy _it would be for me to become the Minister for Magic... 

I lead a hollow life because they were ingnorant on how their words effected the talentless me. I wasn't atheletic, was always mistaken for a girl, I'm not funny, too pretty for a boy... I had nothing but intelligenceto cling to. 

Yes. I blame them. I'll never be able to forgive them for the lack of laughter in my throat has ever uttered. 

Today I meet my father in hte hall with Ron, The Twins, Ginny, Granger and Potter in tow. 

Avoid eye contact. 

Like an Imperi. 

You don't even exist in their world. 

So they don't exist in yours. 

989898989898 

I don't really like Umbridge. She does look like a toad, as everyone claims. I try not to be in her company after I had that daydream where she sicked (did i spell that right?) a hundred evil pink bunnies after me. 

I have a habit of drawing things if I'm bored. Today it's Umbridge, typically a toad doing the cha- cha. 

I'm personally enjoying this. Before the folder gets thrown down on my desk. It's Ginny. 

"Kingsley told me to tell you htat the Minister needs to read this." She looks venomous, like last Christmas. 

She used to stare at me in admiration. 

As she stalks away I realize that everything changes. 

There is indeed a thin line betwenn Love and Hate. 

I've crossed it. 

Picking up the folder I go off in search of the Minister. Knowing he's probably entertaining the press or yelling at Fudge... 

98989898989898 

"..._THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH!"_

I jump slightly at the volume of the voice. I don't really want to go into the office to deliver. Maybe I'll ask someone else. Pucey, he's always trying to find ways to suck up. 

A man with a wooden leg and a gnarled face hobbles out. Mad- Eye Moody... arguing eith the Minister? I move to the side as he goes past not even noticing me. The anger caring off the man is emensing. 

I can't help but hopethe Minister's in a good mood. 

"Um. Minister, I've been told to give this to you." 

He's a man in either his late 40's or early 50's. An ex- auror like Moody with a hobble. Looking stressed and full of problems I realize my own personal strifles are nothing in comparision. 

He gestures me to put it on his desk. I do. I'm dismissed without another word being said. 

I wonder what's in the folder. 

Could it be something to do with the War? Death Eaters? Dumbledore's minions? Things that I wouldn't care about? 

I get back to my floor, beginning my desent to my office. Feeling oddly as if people are staring at me. Its a strange feeling, paranioa. But I feel it clearly. 

Taking the doorhandle in my hand, I feel a pain in my arm that I cannot decipher. My shriek is girlish, the way I clutch my hand to my chest in a spasm. My eyes are watering more out of shock than the few seconds of pain. 

A man of African origins is right behind me. Prying my fingers open. The palm of my hand is red and blistering. With a dark circle writhering under the skin. I see a flash of silver as the auror Shacklebot is going to cut into my hand. Needless to say I flip. 

My hand goes out to throw offhis much bigger and strongerhand off of me. Taking my thumb I crush it into the sensitivepart of his wrist with his surprise I free myself and apparate. 

989898988 

My mind isracing. The scenerio's going through my head are absolutely ridiculous,yet as each momentpassesbegin to see reason. I pass people who starebecause of my lunatic walking and wizardingrobes... 

I could go to a Muggle hospital. 

_But what if its something magic?_

I could make a potion. 

_Yeah, but which one?_

Fuck! I don't know.Whichever one works. 

I trip. My handsgo flying out to save me. My scream of painwishing me death. The pavementunderneath me, my Pitt of Hellas the pain travels up myhand, armto the sole core of mybody. 

I can feel the hands trying to help me. Justbarely. 

My pain. 

My screams. 

Myagony. 

89898989898 

Ihave a problem. 

This time its with the Ministry. In my stupidity I broke the 'no apparation' rule. The facteveryone believed it to be inforced by the same spells covering Hogwarts. My breaking the beliefprobably destroyed alot of theMinistry's reassurance to the public. 

Areprimand and twoweeks suspension without pay.Nevermind the factthat Ihad some creature ebbed into my hand. Now I need to figure out what I'mgoing to useasan excuse to avoid my family, Bill's wedding, get Charlie out of my flat. Now, I haveonly one plan whichis to starta fight, a big one thatcould jepardize my livlihood. 

Which I don't really want to do. 

Another unfortunate thing was after I passed out on the Muggle street. Iawoke in St. Mungo's. Demanded to be let out. 

One of my secret fears are hospitals or such things. 

After I made my demand very clear and concise, the Healers took a cool defensive presence. Not that I cared. I eventually got my way. As soon as I did, I pushed past Charlie and whoever else was in myflatinto the'unused'bedroom. 

Benn locked in here eversince. 

The madnessofthis place is very apparent. The dolls, the paintings, every visual insane thoughts I have ever hadaredisplayed infront of my eyes. 

I think that everyone can be as mad as the person I tend to be as I'm creating such things. In different ways of course. 

Nevertheless, just sitting here with my wits about me, I'm disturbed. Getting to my feet I feel several places crack and groan in my spine. I walk out ofthe room, taking care to close the door behind me. Shuffling to my own room, its nightime and nothing seems to be stiring. 

I'm rather thankful about that. To have this time ofnight to myself without having to avoidanyone or anything... 

I go tothe cupboard where I've hidden my rather large stash of chocolate... 

Yes, I dohappen to have a subscription to both a Muggle andWizard Chocolate club. Not that anyone needs to beaware of that fact. 

898989898 

What the hell_am _I goingtodo for _two _weeks? 

I have no plans. No goals. 

No life come to think of it... 

Not that it would matter much. I'll have to get out more often in order to neglect the fact that Charlie seems to be running whatever the clubs called out of my living room. There's the fact that I show up in the room everything falls dead silent, until I walk out then the murmur of voices starts again. 

Very creepy. 

So I have to think of what to do for entertainment in hte Muggle world. 

So far, all I have is blank. Managed to find some bookstores. And a street called HorseyLayDown Lane... I found that funny. There's a couple of interesting stores I was looking at... the creative black crimson clothing. I could imagine myself in that stuff. 

Yet, to radical for my tastes. Even though I did buy a bottle of black nail polish. I kinda like the look of it. 

Along with the skull rings. But thats all I'm buying of that stuff. 

Though I will be going by the stores again. 

8998989 

There's a band that plays in an abandoned apartment building. Well, one that should be abandoned by its condition. I like the sound of the bass guitar. The front guitar isn't dominating nor straight forward enough. The drums are too erratically out of control. 

A much more shit-faced version of Nirvana's _'Incesticide'_

They've invited me in to listen with a couple of 14- year old wannabe kids. The hobo/rock star kids with wheels on the heels of your shoes. Girls looking like young prostitutes. I don't like it, but another thing to keep me occupied. 

It's all about looking the part if not talent enough to be. The torn black clothing hanging from their somewhat tall stouty bodies. The deeply darkened eyes, with pale faces and dark hair. Skulls and anarchy symbol, dyed black hair one with blondish dreadlocks... Image only. 

They're playing way too slow for a song about loving someone too much until the poison in the wine bottle. 

I like the song. 

Good enough. 

_A/N: I'm taking Percy into a different dementia of his personality. I figure since he never was given a chance to experience teenage angst at all it should hit him hard. I was thinking Kurt Cobain merged with Ozzy or A Perfect Circle? Next chapter with be Charlies' POV. It's how he sees Percy._


	4. Charlie

**Chapter 2**

_**CHARLIE POV**_

_A/N: Hey you people (those that actually read this) should send me reviews... I like reading them. Plus i'm getting a little self- conscious about this story._

For Charlie Weasley to be staying in his younger brother's flat until Bill's wedding seemed rather odd. If it wasn't for his mother's asking, he would've much preferred the Twins place. Seeing, as how they have more in common with each other.

However that is where he found himself in July. The wedding not being until August. After hearing about the whole 'Percy' thing he himself was prepared not to ever speak to the 3rd Weasley son.

So when he met Percy in the flat, pretending to be ecstatic to see him, it felt as though the other redhead was either bored or not even bothering to care. The lazy gesture to the guest bedroom...

To his upstanding expectations it had that creepy 'perfection' to it. The sterilized clean sheets, the highly polished headboards and nightstand. The only place that seemed like Percy. The living room had a very cold and clammy feel to it. The dark desolation of it. It didn't seem at all normal for Percy.

Not that Percy was ever really normal, but at least he tried.

Waking up in Percy's place was like having the flat as his own. By the third day or so he asked the Twins' to go over to hold meetings on the Resistance. He didn't suspect Percy would care...

He wasn't disappointed.

Fred constantly kept saying Percy was a git. After a week it became apparent that the curly red head could care less. The sound of blaring music would vibrate the walls. Sometimes a guitar or the smell of cigarette smoke would accompany it.

Charlie had gone in his room once.

Appearances can be deceiving.

Mrs. Weasley often asked Charlie to bring Percy 'round. Mr. Weasley would say nothing. The other's looks of disdain would stop Charlie from replying.

Percy was sitting at the table one night. His curls' in his face, a cruel smile playing on his rather cherry lips. It was a stark reminder to the 2nd oldest Weasley that Percy was still that beautiful cherub child. With the cruel smile, that dark child of seven who ran around until he fell and bled. The tiny tongue going out to lick the wound. The one whose eyes would burn amber when passion of any kind came about him.

With that pungent air of strong coffee. His eyes stripping the paint away on the third door.

Percival Ignatius Weasley. A Prefect, Head Boy, Minister's Delegate.

_How little you know of him..._

Charlie had to look for Percy when he ran from the Ministry. On a muggle street. Screaming in pain. The cold strict eyes on fire as the sweet red mouth opened and terrible sounds emerged.

He was beyond surprise when Percy stormed into the flat and into the Third Room. It seemed hours before the Twin's said anything.

"What's in there?"

Charlie realized he was invading Percy's space. But for some reason Charlie wanted to. Just to hurt wouldn't be enough not after seeing his mother stress, his father turn to ice. Yet at the same time Percy seemed strange.

Losing his job, made him become the robot zombie. Never home. Yet instead of taking Sleep Potions, alcohol could be smelt.

the first time he came in drunk the Twins, Rebus and Bill stared. Percy staggered with his muddy ripped jeans and baggy flannel shirt to the Third Room. Took out three doll like creatures of warped appearances...

Lit them on fire.

The look on his face was stone. Before the maniacal laughter. Then he left. Just walked out.

The door to that room was still open.

Unreasonable petrified fear came upon Charlie. Like it was the lair to something evil.

Bill got up and turned not the light of the room. His gnarled face reflected theirs.

_A/N: i'm going to bring it back to Percy pov in the next chapter._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter: **_**whatever I forgot**_

_A/N: I liked the suggestion of using everyone's point of view... and i'm sorry about the spelling mistake at the end and bad grammar I meant that bill seen something as he turned on the light about the room and it shocked himself and everyone else._

_SOMETHING IN THE WAY_

_Underneath the bridge _

_The tarp has sprung a leak_

_And the animals I've trapped _

_Have all become my pets _

_And I'm living off of grass_

_And the dripping from the ceiling_

_It's ok to eat fish_

_'cause they don't have any feelings_

_Something in the way_

_-Nirvana_

With the way they look at me when I walk into the door I feel like I've done something horribly wrong. But I haven't. They've taken over my house... err, flat. I should be the one looking pissed off.

But _NOOO! _take over my life (I don't have one) my flat(I sleep there) my work( I lost my job)...

Fuck this! Yet I'm defiantly not one for confrontation so I don't feel at all obliged to say anything. Maybe I'm just a coward despite what I so strongly want to believe in... Being once the Gryffindor Head Boy.

I'm nothing like that now; take away the anal aspect of my dress.

I was dull, boring and so full of myself; maybe I deserve everything that has come to bite me in the arse.

"Hey Percy?" I tear my eyes away from the place I had just been zoning out on.

It's one of the Twins. Must be the first time they've spoken to me since they've been showing up here. I've been drinking coffee at the kitchen for a while now. They must want me to leave.

"Yes?" my voice is soft. After days of not using it; hot coffee warming my throat.

"... Nothing..." he looks down as if I said something to shame him. I notice that though he's bigger than me in stature it is muscle and fitness. He and Fred could probably run a mile; while after two steps I'd be hacking' out my black tarred lungs.

"George," he looks up. I was always able to tell them apart. "If you ever go into that room again I will snap what little I can of your neck." I'm a liar, I could never really tell them apart. Only that George was the more self- conscious and conscientious one. Fred would've come out and said it.

He flushes as Weasley's are known to.

"There's coffee on. Careful though I like it strong.

George has begun to warm to me. Whilst Charlie is still faking, Fred and Bill ignore me. It's nice I find. To listen to another person's voice other than the Minister's.

Besides he seems to enjoy my shock at what he and Fred have managed to create.

Pride. Is it human kind's greatest sin? Or is it ambition whose sharp claws drives the ambitious mad?

I ultimately don't know.

In some ways I don't know what to do about myself. With the stories about everything that has happened to old friends, family and associates. In the wake of Dumbledore's' death. Harry Potters disappearances... the heads upon the stakes of Malfoy Manor. No body found for a boy whose ignorance and unbelievable arrogance served to destroy a man whose presence held the Wizarding society as a whole...

Draco Malfoy. The 14 year old boy who stared at me with piercing silver eyes.

_"You're just like _**_him _**_you know. He would like you, enjoy the thought of having another just like him to command..."_

Draco Malfoy. The 16 year old whose darkened eyes and sallow skin threw accusations at me?

_"I hate you. I hope he kills you. I love you in the way that can only be platonic..."_

I wish I could tell George what it felt like to hold an icicle of a human being. To feel the love and feel the hate. To know nothing, yet to know everything that is to be relevant. His grief that Christmas. Arrogance only two years before. To know nothing but his name...

It makes no sense.

"So you're coming to the wedding."

I look up to the boyish face. Smile in a soft way. I don't say a word. Since such a thing is so tiring to me.

I suppose I am a selfish person. One of the things that I cannot understand why I am what I pretend to be. With my brothers and sister so absolutely different from myself.

It's odd.

George has come over more. Fred's new girlfriend gives him the "creeps".

"Seriously. Even when we're in the same room she makes suggestions that she wants _both _of us to... you know..."

I found that hilarious. Fred's got himself a perverted girlfriend.

"You and Fred have never..."

"**SHUT UP!**"

I managed to get pancake splattered on my face. Laughing I choke on the bits up my nose. Making myself laugh harder.

I think he likes it when I laugh. I haven't been so easy to be around since we were kids. Before I left for Hogwarts...

It's strange that one year away from home could change my once very 'Weasley' personality to the hardened shell. But then you grow up fast. Bill and Charlie grew up moderately and together. The Twins... maybe never. Ron with Potter, Granger and Ginny at a slow pace.

My best friend was Penelope. I lost her to Avery. I didn't ever connect with my roommates or any others in my grade. Though when Flint would hit on me, or Wood's soft and cute crush on me. My small infatuation with Snape.

Though my entire love life was obsessed with Dumbledore. Impressing Dumbledore. Showing Dumbledore I exist. That I'd take the Minister's job he so refused. Then the Dark Lord came. I was promoted. I had everything in the palm of my hand. I would have some of Dumbledore's affection. I would have Snape wishing he had taken that chance with me...

Alas, the person in whom I loved innocently and naivety is dead, with no though of me. The one person who could've given me back my soul has gone from the world. Leaving his last bit of love and adoration to Hogwarts, Snape and Potter.

My life.

To be or not to be.

Perhaps I should choose the latter.

Bill's wedding is tomorrow, not a chance do I have of getting out of it. Not chance at starting a fight.

I haven't cut my hair. Nor combed it. I have a shadow of a beard and the world's worst mornings breathe. I make me smile. To see what the alternative would be. Plus, I look like a slob and will continue to at the wedding.

I have a disgustingly thick layer of caffeine on my tongue. It's repulsive.

Charlie comes out and gets a cup of coffee adding tones of milk. I hate that, takes away the flavor.

"So whets up?"

I yawn. I hate how my eyes water.

He nods and rubs his eyes.

I think has become more comfortable around me. He once remarked how he found it weird that I wasn't a morning person but somehow I managed to get up so damned early. I didn't feel like pointing out that I was extremely irritable and took naps during the day. Nor that the amount of time spent in my room was sleep and thinking of how to impress Dumbledore.

I feel like yawning.

But I can't.

Charlie starts laughing at me. I can't help but laugh too.

Just a little.

_A/N: the next chapter will be the last of this story. I'll start another one based off this but it won't have Percy's pov_


	6. The Weasley's: last

_**(I don't know why)**_

_**THE WEASLEY POINT OF VIEW.**_

_Last chapter._

_STAY AWAY_

_Monkey see, monkey do_

_(I don't know why)_

_I'd rather be dead than cool_

_(I don't know why)_

_Every line ends in rhyme _

_(I don't know why)_

_Less is more, love is blind_

_(I don't know why)_

_Stay Away_

_Don't give an inch, take a smile_

_(I don't know why)_

_Throw it out and keep it in_

_(I don't know why) have to have a poison skin_

_(I don't know why)_

_Stay Away_

_God is gay_

_-Nirvana_

When Bill heard that Percy left the family, his anger was so big that he nearly stormed at Percy himself. But Fleur managed to stop him.

So Bill decided not to speak to Percy whenever he seen him.

When he heard that Charlie was staying with their younger brother he'd been sympathetic... after all Percy was an obsessive compulsive git.

When Charlie came to supper and told the boys and Ginny that Percy was nicking Sleeping Potions from work, it had shocked him. At first.

"Merlin, is there no conscience in him." not true, but he was still smarting over the fact that Mrs. Weasley still cried over her son.

When Charlie invited Bill to go to Percy's with him and the Twins he said no.

"Why not?"

"I have work." Charlie sighed and didn't bother asking again.

However after he heard about the incident at the Ministry he decided to go. With a forbidding he confided to Fleur.

_"Zey's asks you before" _with a wave of her hand.

Bill sighed, but went.

They talked of strategic things before Percy banged up the stairs. Slamming the door open then staggering into the bathroom. With grotesque they could hear him vomit.

When Remus began to join them. Percy would walk in either fast and go to his room. Or he'd walk slowly as if he didn't really see what was in front of him. Later on Remus would say his pupils were dilated. Bill would have to surprises his rage.

When the Third Room was seen by him. It amazed him. The art and darkness that seemed all too demonic, and despite hunting for treasures he didn't like dark depressing things.

One could say that with the same identical face came the same identical mind.

Whoever says that is as ignorant at the troll Flint.

Fred and George were like sunrise and sunset, both the same with one telling detail. One was for the sun and one was for the moon.

Fred was the sunrise. Fiery and vengeful. More mischievous than George. While George was the sunset, when Fred wasn't' there making him, he preferred to do whatever life threw at him.

When they were kids, they decided that they were infatuated with Percy. He looked like an angel from those muggle books Dad brought home. Curly hair and cherry lips.

They decided early on that they wanted to be the little cunning devils that the angel _had _to play with. They always had fun making up new games that made the angel sit down and cry. Sometimes they would feel bad and go up and touch the fires on the head and kiss the cherry lips...

One day the angel brushed their kisses away and told them to go to hell. This was the day the angel flew away.

The games got worse. But tears were never shed.

For Fred it made him angry. George was nostalgic. It balanced out to only a couple of 'jokes' here and there.

Yet to remember that the angel turned into Head Boy Percy worried Fred more than George, they both made sure they didn't turn into one of those.

Even the day Percy and Dad fought, they still thought Percy could turn back into the angel. Fred would move on, only sometimes thinking maybe the little devils made the angel go away. While George thought of it more and sickened him.

After two years of animosity, George declared to Fred that he still wanted a curly haired older brother. Fred didn't say a word and dated a tart. When George would come to the shop smiling and smelling of coffee (oddly enough, chocolate) Fred would glare.

In the Chinese yin and yang. Yang is the sun and the male while yin I the moon and female.

Yet it was at night that Fred, the sunrise had _those _dreams

Ron was never really without memories of Percy. The kisses he would get when he did something good. They tasted as good as Percy smelt. Citrus, breezy and of parchment. When he learned to dress himself with an inside out shirt, the laugh that reminded him of birds.

Smiles and a kiss on his nose. Ron adored Percy. Just like the Twins and Ginny.

That was the thing about Hermione. She was a mimic of Percy and Harry. Percy's intellect and worry; Harry's light heartedness and loyalty. Both Harry and Percy had such love that it was all Ron could feel.

But Percy was cold with his love. Harry was more open.

Ron began to feel betrayed by Percy when Percy turned cold. That one year at Hogwarts could change a five year old's older brother so much. Then Ron himself changed.

So when Ron watched the back of the curly red head he didn't feel his heart break like he thought it might. Instead he took his father's position and ignored it.

Ginny Weasley was the only girl of the family. So naturally she was given the most attention. Except by her older brother Percy. He didn't bother to smile at her or tickle her in play like everyone else. He sometimes played with the Twins and Ron when she was very little. Letting them shine him with kisses.

She didn't like kisses. They felt wet. Once when she was a baby and fell down Percy rushed over and kissed her owie. It felt like a Healing Charm.

After awhile Percy cut himself off of everyone. Not that anyone but the younger siblings noticed.

Once when Harry Potter came to visit Percy caught her hand so she wouldn't spill the bowl of peas. Again.

The year of the Triwizard Tournament after the Christmas ball she had seen Percy in an abandoned classroom with Draco Malfoy. She caught the word 'love'. She remembered the kisses of her youth and the other one he had with Penelope Clearwater.

But the picture was Percy and Harry Potter. Lips locked. Only a month ago she was Harry Potter's girlfriend she couldn't get rid of the image.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley couldn't figure out when they went wrong. Even when their third oldest was a child he seemed to be a perfect beautiful boy.

Though a bit kinder. In retrospect.

Mrs. Weasley thought it was through neglect and that they could've stayed home with the quiet child more often...

Mr. Weasley thought it had to do with the day his son ruined his eyes.

After that the boy was irritable and rarely smiled.

Mr. Weasley personally didn't really believe that Percy was all that happy as a child. He hated his curls and always bothered his parents for glasses and a lip thinning spell. With aunts and cousins that constantly called him a pretty girl it was no wonder why Percy didn't like the way he looked.

It was the Christmas he came home in his First Year. Cutting his hair every morning.

Mr. Weasley should have seen it coming.

Called out of his office one morning. Told his wife was with their son in St. Mango's. Getting there only to see Molly crying about her baby's beautiful eyes.

The damage had been bandaged up.

Percy was a beautiful child. Not handsome like Bill or at all charming like Charlie. Beautiful in a sensual, false facade of innocence. There was ice upon his lips, even though they looked as blood does.

He was stiff with his affections. Even when he played with his brothers and sister. A perfected that morphed dreadfully.

When he left for work expecting the worst that day, Percy was showing his coldness. The fire of passion in his once beautiful eyes lit up and entranced all of them.

But Mr. Weasley.

Percy left with passion of fury burning his eyes, though the words were full of resentment. Mr.weasley would've hit him or beaten the hell out of the boy if persuaded to do so.

Even to this day he tries not to pull up that sleeve and show his son as the changeling he must be. Mrs. Weasel fights with him about Percy all the time. Believing her husband to succumb to common sense.

Dumbledore's dead now. Somehow that adds to his problem with his son.

_The Wedding:_

It seemed to the Wesley's that Bill's wedding was only an excuse to gather everyone for one last time, so that they may see each other before they died. Of course it was a morbid view on a very happy occasion but the Weasley's didn't worry about that.

The strings and decorations were put up by the hired men (Phlegm insisted). The seating was done. With everyone but one with formal clothing. Everyone with various forms of excitement and anxiety. Except for one.

The groom with his gnarled face still looked handsome and his red hair so Weasley. He stood chatting to his best man and Charlie.

When the music started everyone sat up. Except for one. With hitched breath they watched the half- Veela walk down the with the faeires offsetting her white robes. The blonde hair draped elegantly behind her.

All together a very beautiful ceremony...

It was the feast and everybody was having a great time. The world's problems seemed to disappear as people reminisced about the old days.

Even the young ones. Most of their talk went on about the War. Sometimes excited, or anger passion swirling the inexperienced.

One young curly haired man seemed bored by these exchanges and the glares he was privileged to. He wanted to run, yell and break things out of frustration. But he wasn't sure when he was allowed to leave. His mother kept turning around and smiling at him as if he were the sun.

Turning his back he watched with disinterest and hard liquor in his hand the band that stood playing. They were typical in their instrumental presentation...

That was the thing he liked about Nirvana. The words were always half formed thoughts and talked about the idiocy we have. The raw voice and dirty sounding guitar...

He felt like a false witness. He felt as betrayed as his family did. Because of Snape, Malfoy and beyond all comparisons by _Dumbledore._

In fact the Golden- Boy is sitting right across over there. Thinner and paler, but still alive and laughing. With _Percy Weasley's _family. What was wrong with that?

Instead of doing anything, the surly young man got another glass of scotch.

George should've known better than even Charlie that Percy had had too much. With the relaxed shoulders and slow reaction as well as an odd cruel smile playing on his lips.

His eyes glinted and paled behind the horn- rimmed glasses. It made him seem like an enigma to all that were around him. People irritably ignored him.

"Harry, you know you haven't been at the house very often this month..." Mrs. Weasley was soft and gentle. Motherly.

"My apologies, I haven't had the time..." how soft and quiet the voice spoken was.

"Well, I know that Ginny is just dying to see more of you." chided Mrs. Weasley. The black haired boy offered a small smile.

On the other side of the room Mr. Weasley stood discussing some things with a man with an electric blue eye and cane.

"I'm telling you Arthur, its doing no good given them time to prepare..." the cane man was saying.

"Well we can't go into their homes without a search warrant in the first place..." Mr. Weasley was saying with his thinning red hair.

The bore some curly redhead got up a bit tipsy from his abandoned table. Moving nosily to the bathroom to go piss. Completely oblivious to the many people whose attention had be toward him. Harry Potter had watched the tragic look unfold on his surrogate mother's face. A closed off expression is what his own had become.

Percy was taking a long piss. He was very drunk and it showed in his slow movements and lack of coordination.

"A little drunk are we?" it's a cool voice that makes Percy attempt to stand a little straighter and dignified. He sniffs, but it comes out as more of a snort.

"Why don't you just fuck off...?"

A hand goes out to Percy's arm and throws the young man back against the wall behind him. His limp organ still in his right hand. His drunken eyes open in surprise that it's the brunette who's taken such a harsh position with him.

"Why are you such a fuckhead _(A/N: favorite swearword)_ to your family? Why are you so willing to hurt both your mother and father...?" Harry was soft, having drink and exhaustion on himself.

Percy closed his eyes and dropped his organ. It was odd for him to lose so much composer. Not wanting to lose any, he drew himself up and looked Harry straight in the eye.

"If you ask a man what he most desires... he shows you his shortcomings. Those who long to be pure must hide from their true selves. Those who envy and hate, can never hope for happiness. Those who idolize a Prince, will never find love again." his big brown eyes become wet. "I'm afraid Potter that I idolized a Prince and he's never going to know..."

Harry stood there saying nothing. Playing a witness to the tears that have seduced anyone who has come across them.

"Are you talking about the traitor Snape." his voice is tight.

Percy looked up shocked and laughter came out. His curls contrasting with the walls behind him. Harry watched. Then with a sudden movement closed the distance between them; taking Percy's penis and putting it away and out of sight. The sound of the fly was all that could be heard from the two youths with bated breath.

Ron was dancing with Hermione when he spotted Harry sitting at the same table as Percy. Drinking as much seeing the rum and fire whiskey bottles. If he had paid any actual attention he probably would've found it odd how neither of them said a word to each other.

After the band was done for the evening he turned to go over to Harry. Only to find the empty bottles.

_Well, that's weird._

It was after 8 am before Charlie got in. The Twins, Ron and himself spent the night at the Burrow they were that drunk. Still chuckling about past events, the Twins and Ron wanted to see how hung over Percy was.

"shhh... try to scare him."

Opening the door wide open and yelling out

_"WAKE UP------"_

One could hear four hears being swallowed.

Two tangled set of naked limbs.

One red head, another with black hair.

aN:it's a bit abstract because I hate spell check.


End file.
